A Passionate sky

Winter sunshine is a strong bright presence in my room. It spills relentlessly through a high up window, causing my eyes to squint at this screen, and heating up my left side. I am not exactly comfortable with the intensity of its message. I feel quiet inside, my mind rather lazy, reluctant even to seek words. So I fall back on nature, the dependable source when the inner life would seem to fall silent. I take note of the natural world, its eager and effortless expression, I admire its mindless explosion of light and warmth on bitter cold days.

Yesterday, walking out in the cold late afternoon with my dogs, I was blessed by a winter sunset. The  sky was a deep rose color. A passionate sky! I stood still and basked in its beauty, as the little dogs raced directly into its fiery glow. For them it was all one: the gravel road opening up before them, the starkly graceful trees to sniff and poop beneath, the glorious few moments of freedom from four walls and their pre-occupied human companion.  They epitomized the scene I gazed upon. Their message to me was: wake up and live; don’t miss this chance to be the passionate abandon you stand in awe of. Yet I walked on slowly, mourning the now fading sky, while they moved on to roam the shadowy underbrush, equally delighted by night’s approach — and the tantalizing scent of fox and raccoon. It was time to call them back, to remind them of the pleasures of being tame: Shelter from the freeze that was on its way, and plenty of food at regular hours, affection and cozy companionship, dependable love. That last is their special gift to me: dependable love — and a passionate response to life. At least I know it when I see it.

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2 Responses to “A Passionate sky”

  1. Kendall Says:

    Dependable love. What a wonderful idea. Let me know if you find it or make it.

  2. leiflife Says:

    I guess I won’t find it…unless I recognize it, as I do in the dear little dogs.
    How is it that they never run cold, or give excuses instead of affection. As
    for dependable love in human kind. I think perhaps it is present, but it
    doesn’t look as we think it ought to look. I do believe that I am loved, and I know that you are.

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